


Ingot Silver

by Defnotmeyo



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Episode: s11e01 My Struggle III, Episode: s11e04 The Lost Art Of Forehead Sweat, The X-Files Revival
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2019-03-01 19:38:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13301802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Defnotmeyo/pseuds/Defnotmeyo
Summary: Mulder buys a new car.  Or maybe Scully does?  Well... Mulder pays for it, anyway.





	Ingot Silver

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: There was a lot of hate going on for Mulder's new silver Mustang, and how out of character it was. So I decided to throw my own spin on it. This is pre-My Struggle III, and won't contain spoilers for that episode other than the vehicle. I tagged spoilers for LAFS because this alludes to a line we see Mulder shout during the promos, and to a particular outfit we see him in.
> 
> Additionally, this technically exists in the same universe of Love and Basketball, but you don't need to have read that to understand this. It will just help out round out your enjoyment (or lack thereof, I suppose) of this fic.

“Alright Mulder, birthday time. What adventure are we getting up to this year?” Mulder heard Scully tease him gently from the sofa as he puttered around the kitchen, cleaning up dinner.

He’d lured her with beer and movies, and had kept her there with spaghetti bolognese. At some point, when one had to start cooking for one’s self, one realized that tossing a well-seasoned brick of beef in a pan with good sauce was an easy way to give the appearance that one’s self could, in fact cook. 

She didn’t have to know it was sauce out of a jar, and he consoled himself for his deception by making sure he bought it from her favorite online organics store. 

“God, Mulder,” she’d said at dinner. “When did you learn to cook? Jesus, this is good.”

“Youtube makes shit a lot easier these days, Scully.” 

He imagined he musta done pretty well for date-night if she was asking about his birthday and reminiscing about their adventures because she hadn’t spent the last two in the same county as him, much less volunteer to hang out.

“Birthday time, huh? We could go uh,” he licked some sauce off his finger as he moved a dish over to the sink, “we could go squatchin’.” He turned and winked at her.

“I still haven’t gotten over looking at you in that damn thing, and besides,” she shrugged as she turned back to the T.V., “If you wanna get lucky on your birthday, there’s nothing that dries a girl out quite like seeing her partner in a ghillie suit.”

He rose his eyebrows at that. Getting lucky huh? He was doing better than he thought. He decided to give her a serious answer.

“I… I was actually thinking that I was gonna go buy myself a car.”

Scully turned back, earnest, “Yeah?”

He shrugged and kept at the dishes. ‘The car,’ as he called it in his head, was a sensitive topic for them both. ‘The car’ had ended up wrapped around ‘a tree’ the day before she left him. It didn’t help that it was around ‘the tree’ because he’d had about half a bottle of Jamison. 

“I will be with you through anything, Mulder, you know I will, but I cannot watch you kill yourself and I will not watch you kill someone else. Get help. And when you decide you can, you call me.” 

He had yet to forget the way the door slammed shut, or the silence there after, and he made a decision that day, laying there on the couch with his body aching and his heart torn apart. Threw every bottle out of the house. Started to work out again. Threw some of his shit away. Worked on himself again. 

And he got himself a fuckin’ therapist.

Turned out listening to one’s best friend and life partner and sometimes-personal-physician was good for one’s health. 

He came back to the couch and sat down, bumping her shoulder. “Yeah, yeah it’ll be a good thing, you know? I can’t keep having you shuttle me around, not when I live so far away-”

“It’s not a problem, the shuttling. Apartment is on the way.”

He remembered being touched when he realized that. Scully had never stopped coming home, she had just put a little pit stop in the way. In fact, the first time he’d seen her place, on the way back from the Hoover, he’d teared up a little.

She had been customary in her response. “God, Mulder, don’t be such a fucking pansy.”

“I know it’s not a problem,” he answered her in the present-day. He liked present-day Mulder a lot more. “but I dunno, I just feel ready, you know? And it’ll be good for us to have two cars again.” 

Scully reached over and squeezed his bicep. Smiled at him in that soft way that drove him quietly mad and enfolded his heart. 

“So,” she cleared her throat, “What are you getting?” 

“I was thinkin’ something like a hybrid since I live all the way out here…”

“Oh no,” Scully stopped him. “You are not getting some tiny little death trap-”

“Scully, they’re a lot safer these days, plus there’s some SUV’s out, and I know you. You know as well as I do how fucking crazy you are about organic this and grassfed that… I mean Jesus, the chicken you buy cost enough that if you shopped like a normal person you could afford to buy the damn condo with the leftover change.” 

Her soft smile shifted to her you’re-gonna-get-lucky-tonight smile, and Mulder suddenly thought, ‘Damn, the bolognese was a really, really good idea.’ 

He wrapped her hand up in his. “Oh-okay, Scully. So, what the hell do you think I should get?”

“I think,” she murmured, kissing his cheek as she swung her leg over his hips, sat facing him. She kissed him closer to the corner of his mouth. “You should get something a little more fitting.”

“What do you mean?”

She kissed him on his lips. “New year, new you, right Mulder?”

He was slower to respond these days, but he felt the tell-tale jump in his pants nonetheless. “You’re starting to convince me,” he mumbled against her, letting out a soft, little groan he knew drove her nuts.

She always said she loved listening to him.

“Besides, what was that you told me a couple of months ago? When you finally worked up the cajones and came to the apartment?”

He snickered into her next kiss and groaned deeper as she ground against him and slid her lips across his cheek to whisper, “You’re Fox Fuckin’ Mulder, right?”

His burst of laughter caused her to jump and he slid his arms around her waist, pulled her close so that he could bury himself in her neck, her scent. Kissed her there. “You’re god damned right I am.”

“And we can talk about the car later… right now Fox Fucking Mulder better get down to business with Dana Fucking Scully.”

“Shouldn’t it be Fucking Dana Scully? And did you just talk about us in the third person?”

“Shut up, Mulder. Take me to bed.”

Well that, he thought, was an order he was fully ready to make good on.

The next morning started off better than most mornings had for him recently because it started with Dana Fucking Scully taking his cock in her mouth and giving him the blowjob of his life. And swallowing.

“Oh, fuck” he groaned as she licked him off, cleaning up his cum. “Jeeeeesus, Dana…” he could feel it in his toes. “That musta been some damn good bolognese. Remind me to learn another recipe, fuck.” He dropped his head back as she moved up his body and nipped his jaw.

“So I was thinking-”

“About sucking my cock? Yeah I could tell.”

She slapped him lightly and grabbed him by his cheeks, smooshed his lips together and kissed him, then gave his head a little shake. “Focus.”

Mulder stared her down. “Oh, I’m focused.”

“Not this morning, big guy,” she slowed his hand’s downward descent. “I was thinkin’ we should go to the car dealership today.”

“Today? My birthday isn’t for another two weeks.” 

She shrugged. “Yeah, but I’m here. We could grab breakfast, and check a few places out. It’ll be a little adventure.” Scully lowered her voice to that smooth-fuck-me-alto and Mulder knew she had him. He never could say no to that voice. And usually, he was instantly hard. Age and a morning blow job changed things a little bit. 

“And besides,” she gave him one more kiss and pulled on his bottom lip. “I don’t want to spend your birthday at a car dealership.”

Mulder grinned. “Hoo-fuckin’-rah.”

After grabbing food at one of her favorite brunch stops (an interesting affair, Mulder didn’t know they’d started making bloody-marys with bacon, jalapenos, olives and shrimp these days – “Shrimp, Scully, shrimp! Yeck.”) they headed over to the first dealership. 

Then the second.

Then the third. 

“Scully, you keep running me around in this swamp, and I’m not gonna make it to my 57th.” Mulder was starting to sweat through his shirt. “What was wrong with that other place back-”

“That’s it.”

What? He looked at the car she was stopped in front of. “No, Scully. No way. That monstrosity is screaming mid-life crises and cock compensation.” 

A voice from over his shoulder. Great. Another salesman. “What it’s screaming is 460 horsepower and 420 feet of torque.”

Scully whistled, off to his side as she moved away from him to head around the car. 

“Zero to sixty in under 4,” the salesman continued. “It’s our fastest GT ever. That baby right there is slicker than a Carrera-”

“Hey there, I’d watch how you talk about my partner, if I were you,” Mulder said affably. 

The guy was one of the less offending salesmen he’d been stuck with that day, decent suit, with a decent haircut. He laughed. “You’re looking at about 50k when all is said and done, but uh, I’m guessing you guys are Feds so we can give you our law enforcement discount.”

Mulder shot him a look and the guy laughed again. “Kyle Savage, prior Ranger. And you’re out here in 90% humidity in 5.11’s and I spotted your wife’s pancake holster a mile away.”

Mulder didn’t bother correcting him, and opted to just introduce himself, glancing over at Scully, who appeared to be getting obscenely intimate with the engine venting. “I’ll be honest Kyle, helluva name for a Ranger by the way, but uh, I’m more of a Jeep and SUV kinda guy.”

“The F-150 line this year is pretty great, and we’ve got-“

“Mulder!” Scully called over, “the one’s got Drag Strip on it!”

“Drag-what?” The last time Mulder had been to anything having to do with a dragstrip, it didn’t involve cars.

Kyle gave a soft whistle and muttered to Mulder, “Looks like your wife’s more of a muscle car kinda girl, Mr. Mulder.” He headed over, obviously spotting where his efforts needed to be deployed.

“Yes ma’am, I’m sure you know this but-“

“Yeah, from what I understand it changes the dampers, helps sit the ass down when you floor it,” she murmured.

Mulder tended to forget Scully was a gearhead. And he tended to forget that improbably, it never failed to turn him on. But this car was ridiculous. This car was the type of car that said, this driver has a small penis.

“Scully, I dunno,” he ran a hand across the back of his neck. 

Who was this car supposed to be for, anyway? It was his damn birthday coming up.

Scully stood up and crossed her arms at him, cocking an eyebrow. “Fox Mulder. You’ve never driven an actual muscle car, have you?”

He shrugged. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Kyle smile and lob something his way. He turned quickly and stuck his hand out, snatching a set of keys out of the air.

“Well?” the salesman asked, looking between them. “Shall we?”

Mulder sighed and walked over to the driver’s side door. “You’re gonna pay for this later,” he whispered in Scully’s ear. 

“I hope so, Mulder.”

Huh. bolognese and muscle cars. He opened the door as Scully met him on the other side, with Kyle sliding in the back. “I’m seeing a whole new side of you Ms. Scully,” he smiled. 

She was having fun. And if she was, then he was, and he planned on keeping it that way.

She smiled back, “Shut up and drive, Mulder.”

He slid in and turned the key. The car grumbled deeply to life, the engine sound rumbling at low idle in front of them. He had to admit, he felt a little tingle in his hands as he wrapped them over the steering wheel. 

“God,” Scully moaned. “I miss that sound.”

“Sir, you can just head out to 66 and head east. We’ll hit a little traffic but I want to get some highway driving in, and there’s a parking lot a few miles down the road that’s perfect to get some maneuvering in,” Kyle directed before leaning over to Scully. “If you don’t mind ma’am, can I ask what type of car you grew up driving?”

Mulder couldn’t believe he didn’t know the answer. He’d missed a lot of details, those first twenty years, apparently. He shifted to drive before she could answer and began to pull out, the car lurching and sending them all forward.

Scully giggled.

Mulder would pay good money to die with that sound. “Shut up, Scully.”

“You’ll get used to it, big guy.” She turned to Kyle while Mulder got them headed to the highway. “I uh, I used to sneak out with my brother’s car keys while he was at the Academy. He had an old ‘70 442 big-block and he taught me to drive it before he left.”

Mulder’s eyebrows shot up sky high.

“Don’t look so surprised Mulder. Bill and I were partners in crime, back in the day,” she chuckled, and he was relieved to hear no trace of the usual frustration at her brother. He’d never get along with Bill, but Bill was her older brother, and a certain Samantha-shaped hole in Mulder needed Scully to get along with man someday.

“Academy, huh,” Kyle asked. “West Point?”

“Annapolis.”

The man fell back with a hand over his chest, and Mulder caught him wink Scully’s way as he said, “Water taxis.” 

Was this prick actually flirting with her?

Lucky for Mulder and his ego, they’d finally hit the freeway. He might not have been a muscle car kind of guy, but he’d been through tactical EVOC. He punched it. 

The engine growled to life.

Holy shit! This car was a fucking beast!

“There we go, Mulder, give her a little gas!” Scully was grinning ear to ear.

He let off a little to get around traffic and then hit it again.

As they cleared one hill, Mulder spotted the black and white cruiser instantly and dropped off. The car responded to him like a well-trained horse, and fell off in speed well before crossing the cop’s radar plane.

Kyle clapped him on the shoulder. “That’s some impressive avoidance right there, sir.”

“Haven’t gotten a ticket in 15 years,” Mulder said, then caught Scully’s side glance. “Uh…” he said uncomfortably. “A speeding ticket, that is.”

Fortune smiled on Mulder again because before the interior could hit an awkward silence, Kyle was directing them off towards the parking lot he’d mentioned, and the man had been right. It was perfect.

Big and empty, with light posts in some areas and then long straight away, plus some loading docks and other concrete walled hideaways. 

“Alright, Fed,” Kyle called up good naturedly, as the car idled at the edge of the lot, the Mustang begging to be let free. “Show us whatcha got.”

‘Oh, I’ll show you,’ Mulder thought, his adrenaline revving along with the vehicle. His blood had been flowing since flooring it out on the freeway, and he had to admit, using his skills behind the wheel for pleasure instead of for running for their lives was… well it was really fun. He’d loosened up on the drive and was ready to go.

He pumped the gas to get the car moving and then fucking floored it. The car pitched right with him, once again, and he could feel how tight the response on it was. Oh. This was gonna be fun. 

He hauled ass down the straight away, vision and focus tunneling down. The last light post was coming up and he was just gonna whip around and three… two… one, turn her! He slid into a skid around the light, and just as he was edging out it to throw his foot down-

“Yeah, Mulder, punch it!”

Pedal back on the floor and they were straight out of the skid, hauling ass back down the opposite straight.

When he came around the oval the next time, he slowed and began a tight weave in and out of the light posts, testing the response. 

“Damn, she turns tight!” he called back to Kyle.

“Hell, yeah she does, that’s the Drag Strip!” Kyle called, and Mulder took just a split second to shoot that wolfish grin Scully’s way. 

They got to the end of their makeshift course this time, and Mulder took them on a wide loop and slowed them down over the straight, bringing them to a stop with the straight behind them. 

He glanced up in his rearview and saw Kyle looking concerned for the first time. 

“Oh no, you’re not gonna-”

He caught Scully’s wink from his peripheral and that was all he needed. He slammed the Mustang into reverse and headed backwards down the straight, hitting the sweet spot midway where he could throw her in neutral.

He whipped the steering wheel, and pushed them into the spin.

“Holy shit!” from the back.

“Get it, Mulder!”

As soon as they came around, he threw them into drive, getting them through the J-turn and headed forward. 

“God damn,” Kyle whistled, “They do teach you Feds how to drive.”

Mulder chuckled as he slowed them down, directing the Mustang back out towards the neighborhood and highway. “Been a minute since I’ve had to do one of those.” 

They were all a little out of breath.

“Hopefully be a minute before you have to do one again, sir,” Kyle said, sincerely, catching Mulder’s eyes again.

Ah. Mulder understood now. The intentional flirting. 

This was the stare of a brother in arms, off the battlefield, trying to tell him to pull his balls out and get his shit together. He nodded back. “Hopefully. Alright, Scully. You win. We’re buying this monstrosity.”

Mulder wasn’t sure he’d every heard Scully actually squeal before, but this drive had taken about ten years off her and he was loving it. 

Fortunately, the buying process went a lot quicker when you’re paying outright with cash.

(“Jesus, I didn’t know they paid Feds like this. You dealing that confiscated yayo on the side?”)

As Mulder turned, headed to her apartment, he felt her hand clinch down on his thigh. He glanced over, questioning.

“The parking lot, Mulder. Get back there. Now.”

Oh.

As they headed down the freeway, she gripped him over his pants, where he was already sporting a pretty healthy chub, headed straight to full blown hard-on. 

“Scully,” he grunted, tried to keep his eyes from rolling back, “You’re gonna have to ease off if you don’t want us planted into a guard rail.”

“The only place I want to be planted if on top of you, now.”

He twitched against her and sped up. Whipped the car back into one of the loading docks. 

“Back seat?” he asked, starting to move, but she kept her hand planted on his hip. 

“No, now,” she panted as she started to move over. “Move this back, now”

He moaned as he slid the seat back as far it would go, his efforts hindered by her already moving into his lap. 

Somehow she’d already managed to get a shoe and one pant leg off, and she sat straight down on top of him, grinding down hard. Her mouth was hovering over his as they took a moment to breath, while she began a slow, rough rub over his pants. 

“You just got me back, now you wanna kill me,” he struggled to talk. 

“That’s what it is, I have you back,” she answered. “That was you, back there Mulder. All jealous and showing off and God I loved it.”

He grunted. “I love you,” kissed her, overstimulated emotionally, physically. “Now, Scully, I need you, now.” If he didn’t have her he was going to embarrass himself in his pants and it wasn’t going to be very good for her, either. 

He fingered her panties. “These, gotta go.”

She moved from his face, sucking her way up his neck to his ear. “Take ‘em.”

He pulled, they tore easily. “I remember that being a lot harder,” he mumbled. 

There was a joke in there somewhere, but she bit down on his earlobe and that was it. He needed to be out of his pants and in her.

He fumbled, got himself out of his fly. Thank god he’d gone commando. And then, he was there, hip deep. 

“This car shit really turns you on, huh, Scully,” he panted against her ear, grinding her down on top of him. He rubbed into her, setting a slow, shallow pace against her clit he knew would slow him down and make her come. “That’s really fucking dirty,” he fisted her hair and pulled her back to look at him

Pumped her hard once and her eyes rolled back.

“Yeah,” he licked his way up her throat, nipped at her chin.

“I’d forgotten how much of a fucking dirty girl you can be,” he pulled her back tight into him. 

“Fuck, Mulder,” her voiced cracked in a whimper.

He began a steady, hard drive, still not pounding her deep, keeping his shaft moving up and down her slick little clit. Felt her run her hand through his hair and tighten down, hard. 

“Yeah, you like me fucking you, in this car, in this parking lot. Daytime. Your boyfriend Kyle could be back anytime, bringing some other poor fuckin’ schmuck out here.”

“Oh my god.”

She tightened down on him almost hard enough to squeeze him out, so he kept at it. “But you’d like that, wouldn’t you Scully? Him out there seeing you ride my cock in this brand new fucking car. Because I know you, deep down.” He gave her one longer, harder stroke to emphasize his point. 

“You like evidence, proof.”

“Ah,” she could barely talk, right on the edge, her other hand clawing his shoulder hard enough through his shirt he knew there’d be bruises and scratches. “Proof of what, Mulder?”

He pulled her down on his hips, “That. You’re. Mine. You’re. Fucking.” She cried out on top of him, her wetness, her arousal for him soaking him and his pants. “Mine.” He tumbled after her.

She was boneless on top of him. God. They were drenched. Through their shirts, and all over his pants. 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” she moaned. 

Ah. Points for Mulder. The Lord’s name and an f-bomb.

“I think you stole my soul through my penis,” he mumbled, and she chuckled against him, licking the salt of him off his neck. 

“I think I felt it,” she said, and he gave a huff of laughter back.

“Think this thing came with Scotchgard?”

Her guffawing belly laugh answered him. “For forty grand it better have. But,” she kissed him one last time, went to move off him reluctantly, trying to help him keep most of their wetness off the seat and on his pants. “Regardless, I think we probably should to the apartment and get us and her cleaned up.”

He laughed and rubbed some of the sweat off his forehead, moving the seat back up and starting the car. “Scully, you couldn’t wait 15 minutes to get off that lot and defile this car.”

He pulled the Mustang smoothly out of the lot, engine grumbling low and smooth. 

“You keep it up, Mulder, with all this cooking and fancy driving, and we’ll be breaking in the back seat before dinner.”

“Jesus,” he groaned as they pulled out onto the highway. “You really intend to kill me before my birthday, don’t you?”

He couldn’t help it once he got a little bit of open space, he went ahead and punched it.

“What can I say, Mulder?” she asked, as they headed down the stretch of road towards home. “I really, really didn’t want to go squatchin’.”


End file.
